


Everything That Happened, Still Happened

by PortlyPuppy



Category: Lost
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29903616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PortlyPuppy/pseuds/PortlyPuppy
Summary: Set after the events of the season 5 finale, except in this version the hydrogen bomb exploded when Jack dropped it down the shaft. As planned, the bomb's detonation means that Oceanic 815 never crashed on the island. It worked, so why can Sawyer still remember a plane crash and everything that happened after? And who else will remember?
Relationships: Juliet Burke/James "Sawyer" Ford
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	1. Sawyer

A flash of bright white light and a deafening scrape like metal and then he can’t see her face anymore. He’s thrown about from side to side. Something above him is rattling and rattling until there’s one last roll followed by a silence. The silence almost feels worse than the explosion of noise that came before it. He can no longer hear the familiar background hum of the jungle.

His ears ring with feedback until he realizes the growing murmurs around him are human voices. Tentatively opening one eye, he makes out rows of yellow plastic hanging above him and seats in front of him. It’s enough to make him close both eyes tight again.

A _plane._ His stomach lurches. Is it even possible that he’s on a plane? After three years with his feet stuck on that island, is he really on that plane?

The woman next to him is hyperventilating now and he can’t avoid whatever the hell this reality is forever. [He knows it isn’t _her_ without even having to look to confirm.]

Opening his eyes, he turns to his neighbor, cursing himself for caring. He doesn’t recognize her. _Breathe_ , he tells her. _We’re all okay here._ And they are okay. The cabin is in disarray with lockers open, oxygen masks hanging down and luggage strewn around, but the plane is cruising normally now. Any threat of crashing appears to be over.

He stands up to close the overhead locker closest to him and takes the chance to steal a look around the plane. He immediately sees Hurley, with his head in his hands, and the Kwons. Jin embracing Sun tightly and his heart leaps for a moment for them.

Sighing, he sits back down without communicating with either of them, sinking back down into his chair. There's no doubting it now. The cabin, Hurley, Jin, Sun, and others, whose names he don't remember, because they didnt...stick around long enough, but he knows their faces. He's on Oceanic 815. _It worked_.

A flight attendant runs past him, trying to calm the passengers; some of whom are still audibly panicking. He recognizes her face. One of the ones from the tail? _Stay calm, just heavy turbulence. It’s all over now_. He has to huff a laugh at that.

It was supposed to be over. They were back on this damn plane like none of this had happened, just like the Doc predicted. Except, of course, it had all happened, and he can still remember it. Every single minute of it.


	2. Juliet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back on the island...

She comes round to find herself face down the cold, hard kitchen floor. Her eyes slowly adjust to what she realizes is normal summer sunlight, rather than the hot white light of what came before.

Her mouth opens to call his name and instead she tastes blood. There’s also smoke, and she wonders if that has anything to do with the earlier white light.

Someone is calling her name now and she flinches away from the sound of his voice. It’s not making any sense. He’s not meant to be here, that version of him isn’t from this time. She refuses to listen. Trying to sit up, her head pounds and she touches the wound on her forehead. _This isn’t the right kitchen_. Her heart thuds.

_Juliet?_ She can’t avoid the voice forever and she has to summon the strength to cover her feelings and answer him.

_I’m okay._ Shaking, she gets to her feet, neatly avoiding his outstretched hand on her arm. Don’t touch me. _I must have tripped, hit my head._

He’s staring at her, but then his eyes always make it look like he’s staring. She hasn’t missed him - this grown-up version of the boy whose life she chose to save just a day or so ago.

The muffins are burnt, and she can’t believe she’s back here. She takes them out of the oven, letting smoke billow into the room to give herself time to get her bearings. Time to regain that impenetrable mask which used to be her face, before three years of something real softened it.

This isn’t _their_ kitchen; things don’t seem right. It takes her a moment again to understand that it’s her kitchen. From before. And it makes her feel sick. Her lonely, single kitchen.

He’s back, suggesting that they cancel book club but then she’d be all alone with him and that’s the last thing she wants. _I need to sit._ She sits, trying to regain her composure. Can’t let him see how rattled she is. Can’t give him any further ammunition. There’s a whisper in the back of her mind that’s she’s furious with him, even more so than normal.

Other people appear now. A plumber. Another concerned friend who helps wash her face and tells her they’ll talk about the other thing later. Then it’s book club and she’s talking about _Carrie_ [she can do this on autopilot since she’s read it so many times, of course.]

It’s insignificant chatter about books until there’s a groan outside and her house sways. This is all too familiar, and she runs out into the street of their little jungle village. Staring up into the bright, blue sky, she knows what day it is. Which day of September…2004. That wasn’t an earthquake, but her earth wobbled. Squinting, she can just make out the glint of metal high in the sky and the faint wisp of a jet trail, traveling further and further away from her. No plane falls from this sky.

She hears a door open in the neighboring house and doesn’t need to turn to know that Ben is watching her. Three years, plus another three years from long ago that were meant to be forgotten, and she’s still stuck here on this island of despair.


End file.
